


Falling Stars

by Brennah_K



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-22 00:46:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7411849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brennah_K/pseuds/Brennah_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war's finished, the good guys won, and it's time to live. Wouldn’t it be lovely if that were true?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What follows is a fic I'd started in 2005 and thought I had irrevocably lost it when the computer it was on crashed. Thanks to google drive and a reader who had kindly archived a fair portion of it, I have about twenty chapters that I can rebuild it from and finish it out with.

Glancing between Lupin and Potter, for the fiftieth time, Severus wondered how it had become his much bemoaned lot in life to shepherd overly noble, sanctimonious, altruistic, fatally do-gooding, Gryffindors.

Yet, when Albus announced the assignment, he had known that no one would have forced him to comply. After the many trials that he had gone through simply to protect the secret that the headmaster had actually survived his staged fall from the astronomy tower – not only survived but thrived in hiding as he prepared for a final battle… for today – Albus had noted that Severus should have been freed from even the censure of his own overburdened conscience enough that he could freely turn down any action that he did not feel secure in.

So, he had to ask himself, why, in Merlin’s name, when he could easily and freely step away from the war entirely and return to his wife in Wales … Why did he find himself not only still in the war, not only in the front line, but in the advance guard – moving as surreptitiously as possible to reach the dark lord before the tidal wave of Voldemort’s ‘allied’ armies of giants, captured and bewitched dragons, ogres, werewolves, and serpents wrecked havoc on the order’s greatly thinned numbers? Why was he yet again putting himself in jeopardy with – of all people – Lupin and Potter?

If asked, he was certain that could not have given an answer to that without making some reference to severe mental disability.

Thankfully, no one asked, perhaps fearing that he would reconsider his decision; although, he was beginning to suspect that his mentor’s eyes would burn out from their incessant twinkling.

Another astonishment that he could not entirely reason out was the fact that not even thirty yards ahead, his godson was setting a time-limited hex with none other than Neville the-lost-cause Longbottom as his partner. While the boy was well on his way to overturning Severus’s poor opinion of him, he was still uncomfortable at the thought of Draco being teamed with the formerly hopeless, ever-quaking wretch.

More astonishing yet, Draco seemed content with the idea.

Beside them, Hagrid bent low to whisper in the boy’s ear before moving on to the next guard after the boy responded with a sharp nod.

Who would have ever credited that the end would see the half-giant and the snobbish society pure-blood working together – amicably?

In reality, without Hagrid, Draco would not have been accepted by the order. While Dumbledore had staunchly supported the boy, too few of the other order members had been willing to give the boy a chance to prove himself and would have continued to treat him with derision and suspicion were it not for Hagrid’s frequent claims that “awww now, ‘e’s a good boy – just a might high-strung.”

Under the influence of that endorsement and Hagrid’s overdone expressions of disappointment anytime anyone treated Draco with anything less than common courtesy, even Potter slowly accepted the boy and treated him with respect - if not trust.

And there they stood…

_Wait... Where the blazes are they?_

They were gone: Hagrid, Draco, and Longbottom.

“Professor Snape,” Potter whispered as he noticed the older man’s searching gaze, “they’re over there, by the dragon’s pen. Hagrid felt that no one would bother aiming any hexes or curses over there so they’d be safer on the other side of it, and the dragon’s are just too… out of it… to notice them.”

While Severus could point to a few faults in the logic, none were so grievous as to warrant looking for another shelter, so he held his tongue and nodded.

“The astronomy tower,” he whispered, at last noticing the headmaster’s brilliant orange robes in the pale grey sunrise.

Without checking to note whether the others were looking, Severus watched with some awe as the headmaster cast the spell to magnify his presence until it could even be felt from their position. To the dark lord, the gesture would seem like a pathetic attempt to bolster demoralized troops. To all, but seven others, it was an amazing sight. To those seven, it was a signal.

On the headmaster’s signal, Draco whispered the word to trigger the hex causing a flare of cursed violet and crimson flames followed by thick billows of smoke to appear over the boulder that Harry had just moved to. Ever suspicious and expecting distractions, the nearest death eaters rushed in every direction but toward the stones.

Ron Weasley thrust his fist into the air, signaling for the flight of quidditch-trained flyers - from every house, professional team, and other school that had volunteered its support of the order - to rise from their hiding places among the Hogwarts turrets and peaks. Each flyer carried an assortment of especially charged wizarding wheezes that could cause no end of chaos for any wizards they were dropped among.

Professor McGonnagal and the twenty five other recently healer-trained animagi shifted form and stowed their wands in specially made sheaths and accepted the halters that would allow them to carry the specially charged- sticking portkeys that Miss Weasley had developed after watching Potter take one to many falls in quidditch. Showing a pragmatic imagination that had even surprised her inventive brothers, Weasley charmed time-released portkeys to confundus then transport their passenger either several hundred feet above Hogwarts western slope if the passenger wore a dark mark or to the infirmary if they were an order member. Indeterminate tag-ees were set down at the far outskirts of Hogsmeade where they could wander until someone countered the confundus spell. After that, she added a stick-tight spell that would attach it to everyone but Severus, whose dark mark could not be individually identified.

Professor Sprout murmured a soft charm that woke the many Devil’s snare plants, which she had planted throughout the forest as a secondary defense. With a mischievous smile, she whispered the charm that would allow the order to quell the plant while the normal sunlight spells would only enrage it.

Grawp grunted challengingly at the Gurg, who had been so easily persuaded by Voldemort. When the monstrous giant turned a bleary eye toward him, Grawp stood, unfolding to his full height – a heinous offense when one happened to tower over the Gurg – and grunted again.

Professor Binns nodded and took flight, leading the host of Hogwart’s ghouls amidst the enemies to distract them. The last thought on his mind as he approached a herd of ogres was that if their mistaken enemy had only paid more attention during lectures on the Goblin Wars, they would have realized the folly of opposing a deceptively smaller force.

Harry Potter stepped from behind the boulder and quietly walked forward until he stood just behind Voldemort.

“Tom?” Potter asked quietly, “It’s time to end it - don’t you think?”

An aghast silence followed as Voldemort turned almost too calmly – inadvertently displaying his shock through his weak attempt to seem nonchalant.

“Oh, Harry,” Voldemort grimaced at Potter in a way that Severus recognized with dread as the dark lord lifted his wand and staff, ending a disillusionment spell he’d cast over the latter to reveal a strange orb coursing with charcoal and gray streaks.

“I had hoped to watch a bit more of the carnage before we dueled, but if you are so eager, by all means let us dispense with the pleasantries…”


	2. Chapter 2

_“Mordesmorte.”_

_“Mordesmorte.”_

_“Mordesmorte.”_

As soon as the last syllable died, thick opalescent swirls of energy broke from the orb, shooting skyward. Circling above their heads, the energy jets formed into the dark mark as both Potter and Severus had expected it to; but, while the boy lowered his gaze with an unimpressed smirk, Severus shuddered as he recognized what he was seeing.

“I’m not entirely impressed!” Potter challenged as he simultaneously cast a shield and a silent expelliarmis at Voldemort’s wand. As quickly as it slapped into his hand, the boy crouched behind his shield, supporting it with one hand, as he pushed his enemy’s wand under his heel and pulled up snapping it soundly. But, instead of the enraged response that they had all expected, when Potter looked up, Voldemort was simply sneering.

“Ah, but as is so often the case with magic, Harry, you miss the best parts when you blink. … _Dementamorte!_ ”

Harry’s shocked expression, as Voldemort wandlessly cast yet another spell not directed at him, turned to anxiety as he cast a quick glance upward then flared in unadulterated fear. Above them, the dark mark broke apart after contorting the skull into a silent scream. As it broke, it seemed to shatter into thousands of pinpoints of energy brighter than the fading stars in the background. It wasn’t until they had drawn near enough to be barely recognized that the full horrific realization settle into Potter: Voldemort had released at least three nests of juvenile dementors. Unlike the mature version that could be contained and even bargained with, infant and juvenile dementors were ravening beasts that even their own species kept under tight control lest their insatiable children consume completely any entity that possess even the slightest use as a food source.

To Severus’s infinite surprise, while a dread-filled moan swept through the order’s lines, not a single order member or ally broke and ran, but he felt no small amount of satisfaction noticing that the same could not be said for Voldemort’s forces. Numerous Death Eaters at the outskirts of the Dark Lord’s forces scattered as surreptitiously as they could, thinking that their departure would escape notice in the wake of the dementors' appearance. Such was not their luck, however, as Voldemort swept his hand in their direction with focused intent, whispering.

_“Avada Kedavra.”_

The move, in Severus’s opinion, was only to be expected from the fiend; but, to Potter, it seemed a different matter.

“They’re your own people!” the young Gryffindor shouted with almost predictable anguish at the lack of Voldemort’s loyalty.

As often as he had lectured the boy on what to expect from his enemy, the child still seemed inexplicably incapable of accepting that Voldemort possessed not even a single trace of anything even remotely acquainted with human decency. Laughing vigorously at the seeming distraught that he was causing the boy, Voldemort swung his hand again cutting down a dragon and two of the giants who had turned to watch Grawp challenging their Gurg, revealing as he did his ability to do soundless as well as wandless magic.

“You monster, they’re here supporting you.” The boy protested again. “How can you kill your own people?”

Voldemort’s reaction to Potter’s protest was lost to Severus on hearing Lupin’s sudden groan of realization: “The power… casting wandless, wordless spells – it’s not the power. It’s not Harry’s power.”

Severus stifled his own groan as he realized the depth of their mistake, of his own mistake: when it was discovered that Potter could cast wandless, wordless spells, the order- to a member- had worked under the presumption that it was the power that Voldemort knew not, never once stopping to consider that this might have been one of the powers like parsletongue that was transferred to the boy in their first contact. If anyone had ever considered the possibility, he or she could rot with Mordred and Morgana for not making the prospect known, but no one had spoken of it, and the boy had been intensively trained in the rare talent – almost to the exclusion of everything else.

Flashing a glance at the startled boy, Severus realized that reality had sunk in for Potter, as well, and tried to catch the boy’s eye to call him back, so they could regroup and come up with a last ditch strategy for the imminent battle.

“Blast, the boy won’t look at me.” Severus cursed as he crouched behind the boulder between himself and Lupin on one side – and Potter and Voldemort on the other.

“Of course not, why are you trying to distract him from Riddle.” Lupin asked suspiciously. Even though the headmaster had returned to the living earlier in the week, Lupin still could not seem to get over his distrust of Severus – despite the fact that his presumed murder of Dumbledore had only been a tactic to undermine Voldemort’s defenses by allowing the dark lord to believe that he would face only Potter.

“To call him back, we have to come up with something to shift the advantage to the boy.”

“Oh, shite, you’re right. … Well, cast the legillimens spell on me and follow the link.”

“What link?” Severus glared at the werewolf’s dumbfounded face as he realized that he was yet again being left out of the information channels no doubt by people who wanted to hold on to their comfortable hatred of him because he had played too-believable of a role in the headmaster’s ruse.

“Doesn’t matter now, but we’re linked. Just follow it to Harry.”

Growling under his breath as he, only out of necessity, followed the wolf’s order, Severus snarled, “Legillemens.”

The outside world dissolved as Severus sent his full attention the strange mind-link with Lupin. Despite his frequent remarks aspersions to the contrary, Severus had never truly considered Lupin an animal or at least not any more of an animal than the average Gryffindor, but as he swept through his colleague’s mind, he grasped for the first time how disciplined his fellow professor was. True, the man was constantly beset with seemingly overwhelming urges toward satisfying the most basic animal urges… far more than Severus had read in the mind of anyone that he had legillimensed or been legillimensed by – far more than even Voldemort. 

Yet, not only did the wizard resist these urges, he kept a mild manner throughout doing so- and was only able to manage this through the strictest, most formal measures of mental disciplines that Severus had ever seen. As a result, when Severus would have normally had to sort and mince his way through another’s mind, then work to get access to the link, in Lupin’s mind, the link was veritably brought to him and the way opened so that he was reaching the end far before he expected.

“Potter, return to the cover, we must discuss this.”

“No, there’s no time.”

“Potter, have you no sense? Our training was off…”

“Look!” Potter protested and suddenly the scenes that had faded from view came to life through Potter’s all too vivid sight. Beyond Voldemort, Grawp and the Gurg were fighting fiercely with little regard for anything in their path. The werewolves had advanced before Voldemort's orders but as they were providing a satisfying amount of carnage, the dark lord had decided to crucio only the survivors at some later date. Severus blinked in surprise as he realized that he had been feeling the dark lord’s decision through his link to Potter. Despite that fact, even though Voldemort was well aware of the boy feeling his triumph, in fact if anything that made his victory even sweeter. 

'Yes, let the boy watch it all, then we will settle matters.' The Dark Lord's thought echoed over the images of chaos he was witnessing from both Potter and the Dark Lord's minds.

“In fact, Harry, as you are the guest of honor, there should be a show just for you.”

Raising his staff, Voldemort wandlessly cast the 'Avada Kedavra' spell at the cluster of flyers, who had been harrying his forces or, more particularly, at the boy’s best friend, who was leading the assault.

As Potter screamed his friend’s name, an entire nest of the ravening dementors swept toward a single figure, who had been sweeping in and out of the others directing their attacks and sending them out of range as quickly as possible. As the dementors surrounded him, their converging mass blotted out the boy entirely and writhed with screams of satisfaction as they devoured every consumable essence within him leaving behind only a rag-covered skeleton of marrowless, pock-marked bones lashed to the broom by the just-in-case sticking charm that Madame Hooch had suggested just before take off.

Potter’s throat tightened as he watched the broom sweep away towards the whomping willow, only to be caught and directed to the ground by the headmaster’s spell before the willow could desecrate the body any further.

“And, who shall be next? The mudblood? But, strangely I don’t see her here, perhaps she’s tending to the little chit caught in Hogsmeade; another Weasley, I understand. I don’t imagine that little thing will recover too quickly from Bella’s tender mercies; so our enjoyment of her will have to wait. Well, have no fear, they won’t be left out of the festivities. But in the mean time, who?”

“You sick bastard!” Potter screamed in his mind as he turned back and a green jet shot from his fingertips toward Voldemort.

Through their link, Severus and Lupin could feel Voldemort’s amusement at the boy’s ineffectual killing curse. He had apparently realized what no one else had that the boy’s inherent purity and goodness made the killing curse and impossibility. Even if the boy hated him and wanted him to suffer, it would never reach the proportions needed to kill. It was that very realization months ago that had emboldened the dark lord into this action. With Dumbledore dead and Potter incapable of killing by his own hand, it was a battle that Voldemort could not conceivably lose.

“Ah, of course. _Avada Kedavra._ ”

Harry tried to force his way into Voldemort’s thoughts to counter the spell before it reached its intended victim, but distant screams quickly informed him that he had failed.

“Dumbledore was the only person in this world who made you feel safe, wasn’t he boy? What a cruel liar he was. Well, you’ll never need fear being lied to again.”

While Harry and Lupin continued to force their way through Voldemort’s mental defenses, it was ironically Severus, who had not suffered and grieved with his mentor’s earlier ruse of death, who was besieged by anxiety for the headmaster and forced to turn and watch as mentor staggered under the horde of dementors that surrounded him. In a writhing globe of seething energies, they lifted him from the astronomy tower and rose in the sky as a pallid, obscene mimicry of a fading star that flared for a moment as the headmasters defenses were finally breached, then exploded in a firework-like burst sending satiated dementors into oblivion. When the writhing mass finally cleared, the headmaster fell in oddly wafting snowflake descent, as if the air itself was loath to let the great man fall.

“Severus! Severus!” his godson suddenly shouted, “What are you doing? Fight.”

Well-attuned to his godfather’s attitudes during legillimency, Draco had easily recognized it when his own mentor broke his attention to watch the fall of the man whom had saved them both in numerous ways. He had no doubt that he would grieve for the man later, but he only wanted to grieve for one mentor not two.

“Yes, my little snake, whatever are you doing?” Voldemort’s thoughts hissed evilly through the links even though Severus could feel both Potter and Lupin attempting to shield him.

“It was such a perfect opportunity even with your vile little ruse. Who would have ever realized that my favored little snake was nothing but a sheep in Snape’s clothing. How sad that you’ve lost your feeble-minded shepherd."

"How ashamed your dear father would have been to see what his ‘greasy little get’ has been up to and how he would have been punished for your betrayal. Never fear though, the Snapes have not gone unscathed for allowing you to go astray.”

Fighting his instincts to follow that statement up, Severus rejoined the force that was pushing fiercely through Voldemort’s defenses. As he did, though, the Dark Lord flashed a series of memories garnered from his death eaters as they stared at the dark mark hanging above his cousin’s manner in Wales.

Despite himself, a wail of anguish broke from Severus’s throat, “Jul-iette!”

Turning at his cry, Draco paled as he remembered his godfather’s greatest secret – a wife, whose safety had been entrusted to Draco - if his mentor fell.

“Ah, yes, I had hoped that it would mean something to you as well; unfortunately… though I would love to watch you suffer the remainder of a long torturous life with the knowledge of what your treachery has cost you, I have seen too often that you are able to pull yourself from the depths of your grief with a transcending purpose. If only it had been the purpose that you were sworn to: my purpose. Goodbye My snake. “

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

As one, Severus, Lupin, Harry, and Voldemort turned in shock at the sound of Draco’s voice, stunned that he would attempt to kill Voldemort when the prophecy was now widely known. But, as they turned, it suddenly became apparent he had not aimed at Voldemort.


	3. Chapter 3

The orb on Voldemort’s staff unexpectedly exploded as it was struck. 

As it did, the burst energy that traveled outward should have been enough to throw both Voldemort and Harry away from each other; instead, it seemed to pass through them with a wave of searing pain as it threw glass and grit outward, then suddenly turned into an implosion drawing the energy back through. The high pitched shrieks of dementors drew their eyes skyward as the staff’s implosion was also drawing back the nests of dementors that had been earlier released, but, as they returned, the dementors fought the pull of the staff to sate their endless hunger and dove at their ancient enemies the giants and the dragons.

Severus’s heart nearly stopped as he realized that the swarms were headed directly toward Draco, only to restart when they bypassed the boy completely heading first to the Gurg. After consuming the monstrous creature, they split and turned - half rushing toward the remaining giants - who were dazedly raising their clubs in defense- and half rushing toward Draco and the dragon’s.

As Severus watched in horror, the reality of Harry’s power manifested.

The one power that was entirely beyond the Dark Lord’s understanding, the power that had prevented Voldemort from killing Harry as an infant, and the power that had been under everyone’s noses the entire time – held Voldemort in place while Harry silently cast unbreakable anti-apparition wards and isolation shields. It prevented Voldemort from reacting quickly enough to defend himself when the boy drew on the mental forms of his professors’ patronuses and cast a patronus that was a blend of all three of their forms.

The extraordinary patronus-creature appeared as a glowing winged bat with the body of a werewolf and horns of a stag that swiftly and mercilessly circled the nests of dementors faster than they could escape as it drove them toward inward toward the staff, Voldemort, and Harry.

Though neither Severus nor Lupin had been thrown from the link by the explosion, as they watched in horror, a black impenetrable wall slammed between them and Harry - severing their connection. The last thing they felt they felt as the link shut down was Voldemort’s sudden terror and intense, desperate desire to escape

Severus groaned as he slid down the rock shaking with the realization of the one power that Voldemort could never have understood: self-sacrifice. 

The boy, bluntly put, had a ‘thing for saving people’ that went beyond rational understanding.

Absolutely unaware that he was wiping thick tears from his eyes and cheeks as he rose to pull Lupin out of the line of fire, Severus was startled to see a bleary white-haired form rise up between him and the wolf.

“Draco, get behind those damn rocks, and keep your head down. You make a perfect target with that hair of yours.”

“Indeed, he does… _Avada Kedavra._ ” Lucius whispered disdainfully, before he turned back to Severus complaining, “He always was a disappointment to me. _Crucio!_ but as I am in the prime of life, it is a disappointment that can be easily rectified – you, howev…”

The remainder of Lucius’s comment was lost as Lupin deftly slipped his hand around Lucius's face, grasped Lucius’s chin before the wizard even realized the wolf was behind him, and snapped the death eater’s neck.

“Draco!” Severus turned to as he realized what his former housemate must have done, oblivious to the fact that he was now in the line of fire, and nearly sank to his knees when he saw Hagrid sitting on the ground, rocking Severus's limp godson, with tears rolling down his cheek.

In his complete distraction, Severus failed to notice the five death eaters whom, confident in their master's victory, had apparently decided to win a place for themselves in the Dark Lord's elite circle by capturing the spy. Almost as one, they cast 'stupify's to disable him - all five of which struck him almost simultaneously. Before Lupin could reach him, Severus collapsed, unable to turn his head away as he stared into the straining masses of the dementors as the patronus tried almost desperately to push the raving infants from Potter as they were sucked into the Voldemort’s staff before darkness over took his senses.

As the sound of his heartbeat faded from his ears, Severus thought he heard Voldemort’s screams and smiled – if only slightly—at the thought that it was finally over.


End file.
